


if i'm honest, it felt like love

by lady_mab



Series: No Spooky Archives!AU [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Multi, no spooky archives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24070525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_mab/pseuds/lady_mab
Summary: Gerry stands there in silence for another few seconds, watching as Martin moves to give Jon a kiss on the cheek before heading into the kitchen, and Jon returns to his newspaper and coffee. It’s incredibly domestic, and he’s been invited to be a part of it, and maybe he should go shower now so he can pretend it’s not going to make him cry again.'I could get used to this,' he had said, and now he will be able to.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan Sims
Series: No Spooky Archives!AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737265
Comments: 25
Kudos: 362





	if i'm honest, it felt like love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jadinacookie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadinacookie/gifts).



> We let the freckles on our faces make a million stars  
> A constellation so amazing, they saw us spark  
> If I'm honest, it felt like love  
> And in the morning, you adored me 'til the sun went down  
> Then I knew you were the one I couldn't live without  
> If I'm honest, it felt like love  
> \- Oh Wonder's "Us Against the World"

“Ey, Ger, there’s someone at the bar looking for you.” 

Gerry looks up from his phone — which has been silent since he came back for his dinner. “Who?” he asks around a mouthful of fried fish. 

His coworker Rachel makes a vague gesture as she swipes one of the chips. “Didn’t get the name. Round face? Glasses? Tall.” 

“ _Martin_?” 

“He looks like he could be a Martin, I guess.” She takes another. “Should I let him know you’re on lunch?” 

Gerry wipes his hands on a napkin, then again on his pants out of habit. “I’ll go talk to him. I’ll cover a drink if he orders one. Tell him I’ll be a minute.” 

She lifts a teasing eyebrow. “Gotta make yourself presentable?” 

“Don’t know if fish in my teeth is a major turn-on for him yet,” he replies and chases her out with a playful swat. He double checks his chats with Jon and Martin to see if he had forgotten something. 

Nope. Then it’s a surprise visit. 

Gerry redoes his hair, fixes his shirt, then slips out into the bar proper. 

It’s only a Wednesday, so it’s not incredibly busy, but it would be easy to spot Martin regardless. 

Rachel is handing him a glass of stout when Gerry arrives. “Oh, good, tell him what you told me about covering his drink. He doesn’t believe me.” 

“At least let me give it as a tip,” Martin says, a fiver in his hand. 

“No, I wanted to take it out of Ger’s pool tonight.” She flashes a sharp grin as Gerry takes the fiver from Martin and shoves it into a pocket. “Hey! That’s mine!” 

“I’ll set it aside for you to steal from me later, I won’t deprive you of that satisfaction.” 

She considers this, then accepts it with a shrug before letting her attention get pulled away by another customer. 

Gerry turns to find Martin watching him with an amused little smile. He leans casually against the bar and pushes the glass closer. “So, to what do I owe this impromptu visit?” 

“Jon told me about what happened. With your roommate and the flat.”

Gerry’s smile falls, because he had been trying to _not_ think about it. “Yeah… Aunt Gertrude is letting me move back in with her, but we both would rather it not be long-term. It’s always hard to manage around class and work, is all.” 

Martin fishes in his jacket pocket for a moment before pulling out a single key. He places it on the bar between them with a _click_ audible even over the chaos of noise. Then he picks up his glass and takes a sip.

Slowly, hesitantly, Gerry reaches out and plucks the key up to study it. “What…?” 

“Jon and I would like to offer you our spare bedroom. It’s close to the train station and this bar, so it should be easy for you to get to class. And you can stay as long as you want, or come and go, but we wanted to give you this option.” Martin’s hand closes over his, folding his fingers around the key. 

“I…” Gerry starts, then immediately stops when he realizes he’s fairly close to tears. “Thank you.” 

Martin beams. “Of course!” 

Gerry _really_ wants to kiss him, but resists the urge. “I… Is Jon going to meet you here?” He tries not to sound too hopeful. He’s full to bursting with emotions and doesn’t know how to process them.

“No, just me for tonight.” Martin pulls his hand away to fold it around the glass instead. 

“Don’t ‘just me’ me, Martin — as if it’s not a delight to have you here.” 

Martin hides his blush behind his drink. 

Gerry allows himself the indulgence of letting his fingers graze Martin’s elbow as he stands. “I’ve got to finish dinner, but listen — let Rache know if you want anything, and I’ll cover it for you.” 

“Gerry—” 

“She will love you for all those tips you’ll give her.” He pats his pocket where the crumpled bill hides. “Text me if you have to leave before I’m back on shift.” 

Martin sighs, but it’s defeated and amused and accompanied by a soft smile. “Of course.” 

Gerry runs his fingers over the teeth of the key. “Thank you, again. This will take such a load off my mind” 

“We’re always here if you need us.” It’s Martin’s turn to reach out to brush his fingers over Gerry’s hand. “No matter what.” 

“Martin, I’m serious, you’re going to make me cry.” 

“I’m sorry—” 

“I’ve got three more hours, you _cannot_ make my eyeliner run.” He gives an overly dramatic sniffle to hide the real one, and to enjoy Martin’s fretting over him. 

* * *

Jon looks up from his book when the sound of the key turning in the lock echoes through the flat. His fingers pause carding through Martin’s hair, and the door swings open to reveal a tired and disheveled looking Gerry. 

He blinks at the soft light in the living room, then at Jon in surprise. “You’re up…” he says, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. 

“I told you I would be.” Jon sets the book aside and begins the task of carefully extracting his thigh from beneath Martin’s head. “Martin fell asleep about an hour ago, but he tried to be up for you as well.” 

Gerry lets his bag slip from his drooping shoulder, and Jon reaches him just in time to catch him as he starts to sway forward. 

“Is something wrong? Are you feeling alright?” Jon presses the back of his hand to Gerry’s forehead, then frowns when no answer arises. “Did something happen?” 

“No, no… It’s just…” His arms wrap around Jon’s waist, and he rests their foreheads together. “I didn’t expect you to still be up.” 

Jon chuckles faintly and leans into the touch. “I wanted to be awake to welcome you home.” 

Gerry buries his face into Jon’s shoulder, so it takes a moment for Jon to realize the stifled sniffles for what they are. 

“Gerry?” Jon guides him back, brushing the loose strands of hair from his face. “What’s wrong?” 

From the couch, Martin snuffles awake and pushes himself up enough to see over the arm of the couch. He blinks owlishly in their direction without his glasses. “Oh, is Gerry home?” 

This is what finally does Gerry in, and he slowly sinks into a squat in the entryway, hands cover his face to muffle the first sob. 

Jon immediately drops down next to him as Martin lumbers to his feet and stumbles across the distance. “Gerry, love, hey. It’s okay. We’ve got you.” 

“I just—” He lets out a soft _oof_ as Martin collides with him and he tumbles to the floor, caught up in Martin’s embrace. “I love you. Both of you— I…” Gerry cuts himself off, clinging to Martin’s arm with one hand and reaching for Jon with the other. “It’s a good overwhelmed.” 

Jon leans in to leave a soft kiss on Gerry’s cheek and wipes away a tear. “Let’s help you with those boots, then get you to bed. Or else Martin will fall asleep here.” 

“Will not,” Martin mumbles, barely audible from where he’s snuggled up against Gerry. 

The three of them manage to get the boots free, then Martin and Gerry help each other up in order to shuffle off to the bedroom. 

Jon locks up, then moves to the kitchen to turn on the electric kettle. He preps a mug with a bag of chamomile, and listens to the rumbling of conversation floating out from the open door to the spare room. He can’t make out the words, but there’s a softness to the tone that makes Jon feel content. 

The voices drop away by the time the water is done, and Jon takes the mug of tea, grabs Gerry’s backpack from by the door, and makes his way to the room — turning off the lights as he goes. 

There is only the lone bedside lamp on, and its warm glow illuminates Martin and Gerry curled up on top of the blankets — both asleep.

Jon rolls his eyes and sets the mug down on the table. He leans over to turn off the light when he hears a soft _ah-hem_ from the bed. He looks, and Martin is peering at him through one barely open eye. 

“Get over here,” Martin whispers. 

“There’s no room,” Jon whispers back. He notices that Gerry’s hair is still up in its messy bun from work, so he carefully pulls it free and runs his fingers through the strands. “You can stay, though.” 

“That’s quitter’s talk,” Martin says on a laugh. He slings his arm over Gerry’s waist and pulls the sleeping man closer. “Now get over here.” 

Jon huffs a sigh and rolls his eyes — more dramatically this time, now that he has an audience, but turns off the light and clambers into the bed anyway. 

It’s an incredibly tight fit, but the comfort that filled his chest in the kitchen only grows warmer as he tucks himself in behind Gerry, and Martin’s hand slides warm and tender up his arm to let his fingers brush Jon’s cheek. 

_This is perfect_ , Jon thinks as he tilts his head to leave a kiss on Martin’s palm. _Absolutely perfect_.

* * *

Gerry awakes with a start. The ceiling overhead is an unassuming off-white, and gentle mid-morning sun streams in through the window. It takes several seconds to remember where he is. 

The bed is empty, either side of him cold. 

His backpack leans against the wall in an otherwise empty spare bedroom. 

He levers himself to his feet, slowly — joints aching from sleeping in one position. He must have knocked the fuck out. 

With a spine-popping stretch and a satisfied groan, Gerry musses up his hair and stifles a yawn. Hm, someone took his hair out of the bun. The tie rests on the bedside table. 

Sounds of the shower startle him out of his thoughts, and the smell of coffee is enough to draw him out of the room. 

Jon sits at the dining table, head in one hand, mug of coffee in the other, as he considers the newspaper spread out before him. 

“Anything good?” Gerry asks, grinning as Jon jumps in surprise and twists around to glare. 

“Only a remarkable decay in journalism,” he grumbles, though the frown quickly vanishes as Gerry leans down to kiss him. 

It’s slow and easy, and Gerry leans into it — one hand on the back of Jon’s chair, the other braced on the table. It even gets Jon to put his coffee down so he can comb his fingers through Gerry’s hair. 

“I can get used to this,” Gerry teases as he draws back. 

Jon doesn’t reply with the expected quip, instead taking the time to study Gerry’s face. “You look like a wreck,” he says finally, bluntly, absolutely no emotion in his tone whatsoever. 

Gerry snorts and rubs one finger beneath his lower lid — frowning when it comes away smudged with black. “Great, you make a guy cry then send him to bed. It’s a wonder your pillowcases don’t have eyeliner on them now.” 

“Everything’s really okay, though? _You’re_ okay? You gave us quite a scare last night, you know.” 

With a sigh, Gerry pulls out one of the chairs to sit in. He takes one of Jon’s hands, enjoying the feel of it. “Yeah. I’m great, actually. It was just… Seeing you waiting up for me… hearing you both say that I’m ‘home’...” He looks down and studies their joined hands — his tattooed and scarred from a reckless youth, Jon’s slender but knobby fingers only marred by a writer’s callus and picked over nail beds. “I guess it just caught me off-guard.”

Jon’s thumb smoothes reassuringly over Gerry’s knuckles, and his expression softens. “You can help yourself to the coffee, and once Martin’s out of the shower, you can freshen up. He’ll make breakfast for us.” He starts to turn away, reaching again for his coffee and newspaper. “Make yourself comfortable. We want you to be able to call this your home, too.” 

Gerry sits in shocked silence, watching Jon’s profile become obscured by the mug. “You’re going to make me cry again,” he finally says, after being unable to decide on which emotional response he wants to blurt out. 

The door to the bathroom opens, and Martin steps out. His curls stick to the back of his neck and across his forehead. “Jon, stop making Gerry cry, or I shall have to be very cross with you.”

The amused smile on Jon’s face immediately shifts to mock surprise. “I am _not_ making him cry. Besides, I think you’ll find that it was _you_ who caused the tears last night.” 

Gerry lifts a hand to stop them in their tracks. “No one is going to cry.” 

“Your makeup is already a mess I promise we won’t notice-- _ah!_ ” Jon’s taunt is cut off as Gerry relentlessly messes Jon’s hair with both hands. “Twat.” 

“Tit.” 

“Go take a shower.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, and swoops in to give Jon one more kiss. Gerry gives Martin a teasing wink, delighted to see the blush beneath freshly scrubbed skin. “Let me just go get my stuff.” 

“Oh, before I forget,” Martin says. “The purple towels in the bathroom are yours.”

This makes him pause. “Mine?” 

“Yeah, we weren’t sure how much you’d be bringing with you, but we figured another set of towels is never a problem. Yellow are for guests, green are Jon’s, mine are blue, and yours are purple!” Martin points to the linen closet across from the bathroom. “The extras are in there. We’ll show you where everything is after breakfast.” 

“Martin and I will be around this weekend, so if you need anything ,we’ll be happy to go with you to pick it up.” Jon says this with his usual level of curtness, as if commenting on the news article he’s reading, though Gerry can tell that he’s excited. 

Gerry stands there in silence for another few seconds, watching as Martin moves to give Jon a kiss on the cheek before heading into the kitchen, and Jon returns to his newspaper and coffee. It’s incredibly domestic, and he’s been invited to be a part of it, and maybe he should go shower now so he can pretend it’s not going to make him cry again. 

_I could get used to this_ , he had said, and now he will be able to.

**Author's Note:**

> Jade sent a request for "JonGerryMartin - Gift" from one of my prompt posts on tumblr and I figured it was a good time to write this scene i've been sitting on for part of my no spooky archives au, and then tumblr ate my formatting, so i decided to post it here. Tadaa.


End file.
